


The Gathering

by MaudeZbornak



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Ben Solo Needs A Hug, Dubious Consent, F/M, Forced Orgasm, Inappropriate Use of the Force, Kylo Ren is Not Nice, Multi, Not necessarily a happy ending, Oral Sex, Orgy, Rough Sex, Smut, Stockholm Syndrome, Stormtrooper Culture (Star Wars), Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-26
Updated: 2021-01-14
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:53:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 17,897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27202076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaudeZbornak/pseuds/MaudeZbornak
Summary: You are popular among your fellow Stormtrooper for your ability to arrange "gatherings," clandestine sexual encounters in private pockets around Starkiller Base. You feel you provide a valuable service for your peers and you do this well...until Kylo Ren discovers you, and decides your extra-curricular activities are put to better use elsewhere.
Relationships: Knights of Ren/Reader, Kylo Ren/Original Female Character(s), Kylo Ren/Reader, Kylo Ren/You
Comments: 10
Kudos: 112





	1. The Perfect Place

**Author's Note:**

> I hadn't realized "reader" fics were a thing, and after reading a few I decided to try one. This is darker than what I usually write. Be warned of mild dub-con, but there won't be anything too violent.
> 
> I have striven to align the story with the events in the sequel films, and as such this story will not have a happy ending in the traditional "happily ever after" sense, but that one that will hopefully speak true to the narrative. (Make sense?)
> 
> No major character deaths.

To the officers of the First Order, you are but one minuscule cog in the massive fleet of stormtroopers working to keep Starkiller Base operational and deadly. Any higher-up passing you along a corridor would think nothing of you, so long as you’ve done your part to serve the First Order without any resistance. You perform your tasks and stay under the radar well -- it’s necessary.

Other stormtroopers know your job is to patrol various decks of the base to ensure all is well. They know you are never called to join away teams or long-distance missions, and you use your position to your advantage, and theirs.

You provide stolen pockets of pleasure for your comrades in arms. Because you have intimate knowledge of the levels you patrol, you know the places unseen by security cameras, ideal spots for non-regulation activities. If there is surveillance, you arrange “malfunctions” in the equipment -- you’re that popular among your peers.

When the stormtroopers long for relief, the opportunity to release tension and forget for one moment their purpose on this gray, dismal base, they turn to you. You arrange the Gatherings. You consider it a calling. Your peers have known little to no joy since their conscription, and if one person is able to shed their armor for a brief time to experience a tender caress, a kiss, total ecstasy… it will have been worth risking your life.

In the two years since your transfer here, you’ve been lucky. You’ve hosted and enjoyed countless Gatherings, with the officers none the wiser. You do not discriminate when it comes to race, gender, or creed. You simply enjoy sex.

With every new plan you worry about leaked secrets, though, but your comrades look forward to the Gatherings as much as you, and take discretion seriously.

***

Today your assigned post is one of the higher detention levels. You know the cell blocks are spacious because you've observed sanitation personnel cleaning up after an interrogation by Kylo Ren that didn't end well for the prisoner. You're also aware that interior walls within the blocks may be opened to provide extra space should Starkiller Base wish to herd multiple dissidents in one room for intimidation purposes.

You've found the perfect place for the next Gathering.

"Anything to report?" asks TR-4409 from the large console where he is monitoring all prisoners on this level. In your mind you call him Trey; you want to give him a name, since so many were taken away from your peers. He was the first to extend friendship to you upon her arrival, and he's been an invaluable co-conspirator.

“Negative. No anomalies on my route.”

You wait for Trey to adjust a few dials and switches, muting any mics so the rest of your conversation stays between the two of you. “What’s the news?” you ask.

“A pair of Dressellians were moved out an hour ago. Adjoining cells with a movable partition. Have a look.” He gives you the cell numbers and you take a walk. At his console, Trey overrides the first door lock so you can see inside.

You eyeball the breadth of the cell, mentally double it, and decide this will work. Back at the console, you tell Trey, “I have intel confirming a troop is being dispatched to Jakku. Kylo Ren and Captain Phasma are going offbase with them; they’ll be gone a while. It’s oh-eight-hundred-hours now, I’ll put out the word to congregate here at twenty-one-hundred-hours. Do you know who is scheduled to relieve your shift?”

“LD-3404. I’ll see that she’s advised.” Trey pauses, then adds, “She’ll be disappointed that she has to stand guard this time.”

Though you and Trey are decked in full armor, unable to read each other’s expressions, you imagine the wistful smile on your friend’s face. You’ve encountered many comrades during these Gatherings, some more frequently than others. It’s not uncommon for you to have trysted with some in private. The more favors you give, the more cooperation comes in return.

“I’ll make it up to her,” you say.

“She’s not quite like you,” Trey says.

“I’ll arrange for somebody more her type. I’m good at that.” You wink despite the helmet.

“I don’t mind if you want to set another time. New recruits have asked around; it’s only fair to let in new blood.”

You understand, but timing is key when it comes to these events. You know everybody involved is safer when Kylo Ren and Captain Phasma are otherwise occupied and preferably offworld. Should a First Order officer happen upon these activities, you guess at best all offenders would be disciplined and written up. You’d lay low for a while, then test the waters again.

Ren and Phasma, however...you’ve only come into personal contact with the latter, and you’ve heard stories of the former. Violent tempers, spontaneous punishments. You won’t chance a Gathering if he’s on base.

“I told you the reason,” you say.

“I’ll wager you Kylo Ren could walk into a Gathering and you wouldn’t know.” It’s possible, since you’ve never seen his face.

“I gamble enough as it is. No deal,” you say, and hitch up your blaster. “See you at twenty-one-hundred hours.”

You return to your rounds. You smile, thinking of how you’ll see all of Trey later.


	2. The Gathering

From the outset, you set a few simple rules to guarantee a successful Gathering:

_When given the location and your arrival time, speak nothing of it. Those taking part will also receive word._

_Arrival times are staggered so as not to arouse suspicion. Some may even rendezvous at another point first, to give the impression of a team en route to a specific job._

_Once at the Gathering, enjoy yourselves and recognize consent with potential partners. Leave as discreetly as you came._

You worry least about the final rule. Those who attend Gatherings are always willing to show the people around them a good time. They also want to attend subsequent Gatherings, so it's in their best interest to remain quiet.

As usual, you are first to arrive, dressed in what passes for civilian clothing on the base. Loose white tunic, white pants. You confirm with LD-3404 that she is prepared to stand watch. You agree upon a code word in the event of an unwelcome visitor -- _stardust_ \-- that cues you to quiet down the group until you receive an all clear. Comm mic in hand, you enter the open cell door and wait. The partition is already removed -- less work for you.

Comrades arrive in clusters of two and four -- some in civilian dress, others still in armor. Bodies come into contact and a feeling of anticipation permeates the air. You take in the excited, casual chatter as you and your guests shed clothes and armor, and it’s not long before you’ve spotted your “firestarters,” the people who get the Gathering started. A well-built, dark-skinned man has a smiling redhead around the waist and they are kissing.

As more arrive, they parse off in pairs and triads as the firestarter male has his female companion on the floor and begins to eat her pussy. Small talk has devolved into pleasured moans and groans, and you see fit to ask LD-3404 to dim the lights for ambiance.

Trey comes up behind you, cupping your bare breasts and kissing your neck. He grinds his cock hard against your ass. You think he could probably enter you standing up, but you want a little more stimulation. You turn around in his arms and you kiss. You’ve had a long day, devoted entirely to Starkiller Base, and you’re ready to reclaim some time.

Unfortunately, the base has other plans. You groan at the alert blipping in your earpiece and hope it’s not a warning so early on in play. LD-3404 hasn’t used the code, but is requesting your presence. “I need your help.”

Trey nibbles on your breast. You’d rather stay put and ask LD-3404 to handle the situation, but your guard insists you come out. “He’s a new one,” she says, “and he’s having second thoughts. He’s near panic right now, and I worry he may become a potential leak.”

“Who is it?” You always take care to memorize every guest list before a Gathering. An unfamiliar operating number means trouble despite the lack of a code.

“CZ-1943.”

You exhale. CZ-1943 is new to the Gatherings. You got to know him through Trey, so you’re comfortable this checks out. “I’ll be right there,” you say, and reluctantly part from your current lover to dress. During the long walk to the security console you work out in your head what you will tell your comrade. He had seemed enthusiastic and willing when invited, but you realize he also could have been caught up in the moment, hearing about Gatherings from others. It’s important, even if he decides to pass, that he doesn’t betray his peers.

“Hello, how can I --” you begin, but you immediately freeze in place. LD-3404 is no longer at her post, but instead stands to one side, flanked by two other stormtroopers. In her place is a junior First Order officer in a severe black and gray uniform.

Standing next to him is Kylo Ren in full regalia, backed by two Knights of Ren. Though you can’t see his face for his helmet, you sense he is furious.

“You,” he addresses you by your operating number, “will come with me now.”


	3. The Interrogation

The march to Kylo Ren’s ready room is silent and tense. His cape ripples and snaps with his every step. You follow behind with his companions taking turns poking your back with their weapons, even though you have complied to every command and are not slowing the pace. You wish you had worn your armor to the Gathering. You imagine you’d feel less vulnerable wearing it.

All through the trek, you think of where the plan went awry. 

Who misinformed you that Kylo Ren was offbase, and was the intel wrong on purpose? Were you betrayed by a comrade who felt insulted for being neglected, or perhaps somebody who believed they held the higher moral ground? You run through every person you know on base, and no enemies come to mind. Somewhere, somebody along the chain of secrecy slipped.

For a moment, you wonder if you are the culprit. Have you become careless, blinded by your own lust that you let a loose end unravel?

In the ready room, the knights disappear through another door. Kylo Ren commands you to attention while he paces the room. He’s quiet at first, but you know underneath those layers of black armor rages a powerful, angry soul -- one whose temperament and inclination toward violence rivals, if not supersedes, that of the legendary Darth Vader. You understand you may not leave this room alive.

You are scared, and you stay quiet to prolong your life, even for seconds. For the first time in a very long time, you pray, though you aren’t certain to whom.

Kylo Ren finally stops and turns to face you. “You were out of uniform in a public area. That’s a court-martial offense.”

“Yes, commander.”

“You are also vain to assume your ability to fool your superiors is valid,” he says. “Your so-called ‘Gatherings’ are no secret among the senior officers of the First Order, or myself. These offenses are far worse than wandering around base barely dressed.”

You feel as though every bone in your body has dissolved. You want to melt and leave behind a heap of civvies, collapsing at Kylo Ren’s feet. It becomes clearer to you that some Gatherings had been executed with great ease. No patrols, no surprise visits. What Kylo Ren tells you leaves you doubting yourself.

They let you arrange Gatherings. But...why were none of them raided and stopped?

“Are you not curious about the fate of your current ‘guests’?” he asks. “No doubt you are missed.” His tone has a sneering quality here.

You realize this is your cue to speak. “Commander Ren, I’ve meant no harm by my actions. If there is to be punishment, I ask it all fall on me. My comrades --”

“Your fellow troopers,” he interrupts -- corrects, though you dislike his term, “will have their pleasures and leave the cell block unaware of what transpired earlier. LD-3404 will have resumed her post and, if asked, will impart that you were suddenly taken ill and escorted to the infirmary.” 

He steps closer to you. He towers over you, blocking out an overhead light. You take this intimidating posture to mean all punishment will fall on you, and you close your eyes.

“Why do you do this?” he asks, his voice deep yet softer. “What compels you to risk your life and that of others on this base?” 

“May I speak freely, commander?”

“You may.”

You take a deep breath for strength. “I accepted my conscription and training to serve the First Order, and have done so well since my youth.”

“I don’t question your work performance.” The way he calls out your operating number sends a chill down your spine. It’s a reprimand coated by a voice one might consider arousing in another situation.

“These Gatherings are a form of release. The work we perform on Starkiller Base is noble, yet very stressful. Balancing work with...recreation helps.”

“We offer opportunities for recreational activity to all personnel.” He’s referring to the exercise rooms and the fact every person is allowed one personal item in their quarters, provided it isn’t something deemed subversive.

“Yes, commander. In my time here, however, I’ve discovered sexual activity allows for the relief I need to continue above average performance at work. Several of my peers feel the same way.”

You opt not to go deeper into your sexual history on this base -- your many partners and the favors you’ve given to buy silence. You imagine Kylo Ren must already know.

“So naturally, you hold unauthorized orgies on base and believe your superiors are none the wiser.” He folds his arms. You hear his heavy breathing through the helmet and it shouldn’t arouse you, but you grow weak.

Your mind wanders to the person underneath all this dark armor. What does he look like? Is it possible he might have infiltrated a Gathering without your knowledge, just to experience it? You think of all the people you’ve welcomed, particularly the “one and dones,” the people who never repeated.

“Again, I’ve meant no harm,” you say.

Abruptly he backs away and calls up a holoscreen. You see different profiles flash; they are the personnel files of various Gathering participants. Trey’s face appears in a one-second blip. “Whatever your intentions, it would appear they have had a positive effect,” he says. “I had Captain Phasma research the work performance and morale of a sampling group, compared to a group of Stormtroopers who have never attended one of your orgies.” Kylo Ren reveals that among your guests, all have shown improvement.

“You see why,” he adds, “we’ve let you go unchecked for some time.”

“Yes, commander.”

“Nonetheless,” he turns toward you, “As commander of the Stormtrooper force, Captain Phasma strongly believes we can no longer turn a blind eye to your activities as they are still unauthorized. Were the captain here and not offbase, she would impart this to you herself...in her own way.”

You get the meaning in his words. It seems Kylo Ren wants you to believe he is being lenient, whereas Phasma would probably have blasted you into space already. You do wonder, though, why the raid took place in her absence. You are a Stormtrooper, and you report to Phasma.

“Patience. You’ll get your answer.”

You exhale. It’s now that you remember the extent of Kylo Ren’s power. He can read thoughts. He can move things with his mind, affect people without touching them. You should have known better that you are no different from anybody else he’s interrogated.

You should have thought of this before you imagined him without his armor.

“Upon her return, Captain Phasma intends to clarify all policies regarding downtime and recreation for her troops. No more secret Gatherings. Violators will be severely disciplined. We don’t forbid one-on-one fraternization so long as it doesn’t interfere with duties, but from now on your friends will have to satiate their needs in their quarters, on their own time.”

“Yes, commander.” You decide it was good while it lasted, and you hope nobody else will be disciplined. 

“As for you,” Kylo Ren says, coming closer again, “I’ve convinced Captain Phasma to allow me to oversee your reparations.”

“Yes, commander.” You’re not certain how to react to this. 

The door through which the two Knights of Ren disappear opens again, and Kylo Ren orders you inside. It’s a smaller room, one you realize is part of the commander’s personal quarters. It’s not where Kylo Ren sleeps, however; you sense it. 

The two knights, imposing and standing to attention in their full armor, face you. Kylo Ren is at your back and you are closed in.

“Since you have an affinity for giving pleasure, and your peers have benefited, it stands to reason the Knights of Ren may also benefit,” he says. “In time, you will service all the knights simultaneously, provided I am satisfied with the evidence to this effect.”

The knights undo enough of their lower body armor to reveal their erections. You notice their size; both men are well-hung, more so than anyone you have encountered on base.

You hear your operating number and you turn around. Kylo Ren also sports an impressive cock jutting from his attire, and he’s stroking it slowly.

“You will begin,” he tells you, “with me.”


	4. The Claim

One thought runs through your mind. _This could be worse_. You could be dead now, asphyxiated by an invisible hand or impaled by a lightsaber. You’re aware, however, either remains a possibility if you perform poorly here.

Kylo Ren waits. He roughly fists his cock in his black glove. The sight doesn’t arouse you, and it’s worrisome. Yet, you keep your mind as blank as possible in case he attempts to invade it.

 _You can do this_ , you mentally coach yourself. You let your mind center on a happier thought; let this be a normal Gathering of willing participants. It’s not uncommon for some guests to keep parts of their armor on during sex. It’s done mainly for anonymity, but you know over time people set aside their inhibitions and truly enjoy themselves.

That’s what this is, you tell yourself. Three guests in a Gathering who prefer to remain private. Maybe that will change.

You kneel before him, sensing the other knights closing in from behind. The floor is hard and uncomfortable, your clothes too thin a buffer. “What would you like?” you ask Kylo Ren.

“What do you think I want?” He bites out the words. His impatience is palpable.

“Commander, this is about your pleasure,” you tell him. “I request your guidance. From here, I can take your cock into my mouth and suck you to orgasm, or I could use my hands or other parts of my body to stimulate you.”

His helmet tilts to one side. “Other parts.” It’s not a question.

“My breasts, for example.” You gesture to your bustline. The neck of your tunic is low, but not so much that you’re spilling out of it. “Y-you would rub your cock in between my breasts.”

He stops stroking himself and simply holds his cock. “If it will keep you quiet, I’d prefer to fuck that tight little mouth of yours.”

You wince at the remark. You’ve clearly upset him; the way you’ve spoken, he may be under the impression you’ve presented yourself as a sexual superior to him. Of course, that’s why you’re here. Now you have to prove it.

“Do you want me to swallow when you come?” you ask. _When._ That’s the operative word. You don’t know the outcome of your presence here, but you intend to show this man what you can do.

“No.” His tone implies you’re not worthy of it.

You say nothing more, deciding to wait for further guidance from him. He removes his hand from his cock once you reach out for it. His cock is velvet smooth at the tip and along the shaft; his scrotum fills your other hand. You feel buoyed by the fact Kylo Ren is aroused, and that his prick hasn’t softened with your touch. The man clearly has wants and must find some attraction toward you to warrant this state of excitement.

You also have to admit, because you enjoy giving pleasure, that his cock looks very fine. You wet your lips and draw your tongue slowly along a raised vein toward the glans, which you then take into your mouth.

The scent of Kylo Ren’s arousal dizzies you. You close your eyes, thinking it will be easier to pleasure him...and to calm yourself. You feel his hands touch down on your shoulders as he steadies himself while at the same time steers your body toward a desired cadence.

You make more saliva to slicken the glide. One hand remains fondling his sac while you use the other to grip his thigh for support. His cock is moving easily and rapidly inside you now. Kylo Ren is thick and hard inside you, and you find the salty flavor of his precum exhilarating. Ideally, you would be doing this to Trey right now, but you strive to keep that thought out of your head.

You do think, however, that you haven’t had a cock as large as this. With that realization comes a low, pleasured groan from your mark. Kylo Ren hisses out a breath and you hear him speak.

“Take it all in. So tight.”

It’s enough to spur you to move faster. You don’t allow speed to diminish the details, though. Your mouth is wet and every time you pull back you lick up Kylo Ren’s shaft. After every third thrust, you bare your teeth and scrape them along the head of his cock. You sense he enjoys that, but soon you notice he is tightening in your loose grip. You don’t have much further to go.

As you do this, you find you are genuinely deriving some pleasure from this act. You want badly to touch yourself, too, but you don’t dare. Kylo Ren, judging from the way he pushes his groin into you, has slipped into a zone of your creation. You’re about to make him come.

The first drop explodes in your mouth with bold, salty flavor, and this is when Kylo Ren pulls away completely to finish. He lets out a few stuttered grunts while he fists his cock. He comes in several spurts, aiming for your face. You tilt it back and keep still while his essence lands on you. It’s hot, but it’s nothing you haven’t experienced before. You keep your eyes closed until he has finished, and you feel his cum landing on your cheeks and lips.

You want to lick it away, as you were denied the same when were you taken.

He takes a deep breath and says, “Leave it. You will not clean yourself until after you’ve finished here tonight.”

“Yes, commander.” It’s a tactic, as you understand it. Kylo Ren has claimed you.

You hear footsteps fading, and you chance to open your eyes. The two knights have taken Kylo Ren’s place, their cocks reddened with need and jutting outward. Kylo Ren has tucked his cock away and prepares to leave.

“Do not finish in her mouth, do not spill your seed on her, and do not fuck her anywhere else,” he orders them. “Her cunt belongs to me now.”

He leaves you to it, and you take both of the knights in hand, hoping you live through this.


	5. The Summons

Following your interlude with the Knights of Ren, you’re cleaned up and sent to the infirmary, even though you are not injured. The Knights, while intimidating in their helmets and dark clothing, had offered neither criticism nor approval of your skills.

You feel a soreness in your jaw from all the oral pleasures you delivered, but it’s nothing that won’t hamper your work performance.

The physician on duty hands you two capsules and a paper water cup. You’re told it’s to dull the pain, and you do not contradict him. You are then sent to a recovery room to lay flat on a platform along with a dozen or so other comrades -- troopers, Kylo Ren’s voice corrects in your mind -- in there for various injuries.

You recognize the female trooper on the platform to your right. Though she is lying under a thin white sheet, you notice the gauze wrapped around her left knee and right arm. She is an occasional guest at your Gatherings, but wasn’t present at the last one due to the mission that likely delivered her back to base in this condition.

You feel relieved to see her. You need a friendly face close by after what you’ve been through.

“I’m sorry to have missed it,” she says. “Maybe the next one?”

“Sure.” A pang of sadness fills your heart. There will be no more Gatherings, and you can’t bring yourself to speak this truth. There is nothing left to do but remember with fondness what happened, and mourn what will never be. You also have the added burden of dreading what Kylo Ren plans for you next.

 _Her cunt belongs to me now_. The proclamation was blunt, but there are different ways to interpret it. He may fuck you eventually, or he may leave you to ache as punishment. Since your arrival here, you’ve received no communications from or about Kylo Ren. You figure it will come, and for now you accept that you will return to your duties when you are discharged.

The physician on duty leaves the room, and you take advantage of the lapse in supervision. You leave your platform and sit next to your companion. “What happened to you?”

“The hazards of the job.” She explains she has recently returned from an away mission, another fruitless search for a droid with sensitive intel. You’ve heard talk about this droid and what it carries, something clearly important to Kylo Ren that he’s willing to risk casualties to get it.

Your companion’s injuries, however, do not appear serious, but you realize time is needed for her to heal. You hold her hand while you talk, and notice her disposition lightening. Camaraderie is truly a potent medicine.

The moment is short-lived, though. The attending physician sweeps back into recovery, eyes on you. When you acknowledge your operating number you are told to dress in your armor and report immediately afterward to Kylo Ren. You know better than to question this order.

At the mention of Kylo’s name, your companion squeezes your hand tight. “Good luck,” she whispers. You say nothing, and depart quickly. You had no words in response as it was. You couldn’t very well explain to your fellow trooper that you were discovered as the main point of contact for illicit Gatherings, and that as your punishment you’re obliged to give pleasure to Kylo Ren and his fellow Knights in the hopes their fighting abilities improve.

Is it pleasure, or simply release? You ponder the viability of this new arrangement, and hope Kylo Ren isn’t toying with you and luring you to an inevitable execution. However, you realize there must be an endgame in sight.

What happens if you “fail”? What happens if you “succeed”? What happens if Kylo Ren tires of you? These thoughts follow you back to the quarters you share with your regiment. By the time you’ve reached Kylo Ren’s ready room, in complete uniform with your weapon, you clear your head in the event Kylo attempts to search it.


	6. The Arrangement

“Enter.”

You stand at attention more than a foot from the door as it slides shut behind you. Kylo Ren has his back to you, his arms folded, and is standing before a large holoscreen. Images and words scroll and flash but it’s impossible for you to see it entirely. At attention, your focus is elsewhere and you know if you move you will be reprimanded. It doesn’t matter that Kylo Ren can’t physically see you in his current position.

The silence seems endless and anxious. You’re used to standing to attention for lengthy periods, so you are not entirely bothered. You fight to keep your mind blank and unsearchable, but the thought of your next “assignment” pushes at the edges of your brain, demanding its time. A shift in Kylo Ren’s stance nearly brings you to gasp.

He addresses you. “You are to be transferred to another level. It’s been arranged with Captain Phasma, effective immediately.” He orders you to look at the holoscreen, where you find the location of your new quarters. “Your schedule and duties remain unchanged,” he adds. “The only difference is you will report here at the end of your every shift.”

“Yes, commander.”

Kylo Ren comes to stand before you. You look up into that dark, imposing helmet, into the inky blackness where there should be a face. You try not to wonder what he looks like underneath it. You’ve heard stories of why the Knights of Ren rarely, if ever, remove their own. How they are scarred and charred and quite possibly mauled to a point that their mere appearance strikes fear and disgust.

How badly scarred is Kylo Ren that he feels the need to conceal himself?

“Are you not going to ask about your transfer?”

You inhale. Your breath shudders. “What happens to me here, I accept as part of my duty.” You learned a long time ago not to question anything or anybody. This included.

“For one, these are the closest Stormtrooper quarters to my own. It makes sense to keep you close at hand for the duration of this arrangement,” he says. “Secondly, this transfer is designed to ensure your good behavior.”

He waits. You say nothing.

“Not one Stormtrooper assigned to these quarters has come to any of your Gatherings. It stands to reason you are not acquainted with any of them, nor will you be, in the intimate sense.”

Kylo Ren closes some of the space between you. “When I said your cunt was mine, I meant it. It’s not to be shared with anyone on this base.”

“Yes, commander.”

“This includes yourself.”

You have to think for a moment, and you realize Kylo Ren has forbidden you from pleasuring yourself. Your one escape from the drudgery of Starkiller Base, gone. You feel as though a death sentence would be preferable to this loss, and you can’t imagine how he might --

“I’ll know if you’ve disobeyed me,” he tells you, and takes a step back. He lowers one gloved hand, palm upward, and bends his fingers in a come-hither motion. You twitch. Kylo Ren hasn’t laid a hand on you and yet you sense his touch between your thighs despite the armor.

He sticks his thumb upward and moves it in circular motion. You feel the pressure on your clit and his movement over it. Back and forth and round again. He’s using his power to send tiny bolts of desire through your body. You don’t move, however, because he hasn’t commanded it.

“Your cunt, your mouth…” With a turn of his wrist his phantom touch now invades your backside and you struggle to remain still. “This part, too,” he says. “All mine. You come when I summon you, and you _come_ when I tell you. Understood?”

“Y-yes, Commander.”

Kylo Ren holds up his hand, and instantly the connection is severed. He’s toyed with you and stoked the fire, only to have it fade with one swift gesture. You don’t come down as you normally do after a climax, and you realize Kylo Ren has the ability to take your arousal as he sees fit.

“You are dismissed.”

Abrupt and cold -- no different than his handling of you. Kylo doesn’t wait for you to retreat; he stalks through a doorway to another room and its sliding door seals him from your view. You return to your duties, just another day on base. Only now, it will never be the same for you.

You understand stolen moments of pleasure with other troopers no longer exist, and while you should fear your next meeting with Kylo Ren...instead you anticipate it.


	7. The Proposition

“How does a pathetic cog in the machine like you rate with Kylo Ren?”

You don’t need to see Captain Phasma’s face to know she’s holding an expression of disgust for you. Ever since her return to base she’s been riding you like a tauntaun across the icy landscape of Hoth. So you perceive it based upon stories you’ve heard from people who have viewed such creatures in the First Order’s holo-archives. Phasma is relentless in her criticism, and it seems she has all the time in the galaxy to give it.

You say nothing; you merely stand at attention. The answer that would satisfy Phasma doesn’t exist, anyway. As she continues to browbeat you, however, you wonder what has irritated her more: if she views Kylo Ren’s interference in her command as giving you special favors, or if the special attention you’ve given to Kylo and the Knights have inspired jealousy. Whatever the answer, Phasma never seemed to like you, and her scorn has only intensified.

Two weeks have passed since the transfer to your new quarters. In this time you’ve orally serviced Kylo Ren after your every shift, in addition to sucking off two Knights of Ren at a time. More than once he has reiterated his ownership of your body, and so far he’s only permitted the Knights to take your mouth. If that is to change, he’s given you no indication.

You don’t know, either, if Kylo Ren plans to take you any other way.

Every session is the same: you kneel before Kylo in your Stormtrooper armor, remove your helmet, and take his exposed cock. Kylo has yet to remove his helmet during these encounters, nor has he allowed you to swallow. The only difference between recent sessions and the first is that Kylo stays to watch while you see to the Knights’ release.

He studies you. If he’s looking for a different technique used on these other men, or their heightened pleasure, he hasn’t said. The only thing you do know is that, while you enjoy giving head, you seem to enjoy it more with Kylo Ren.

“Pay attention!” Phasma barks, and you snap to your full height.

“Don’t think because you have a friend in high places means the special favor extends to your other duties,” she admonishes. You get the impression she is about to say more when a pair of Stormtroopers approaches. They have come to report, and to relieve you.

“Dismissed,” she says to you with disgust, and you leave without a word.

Halfway to Kylo Ren’s quarters, a voice calls out your operating number. Your heart pangs, but you do not turn to acknowledge Trey. You keep walking.

Trey catches up to you, his breathing heavy under his helmet. He wants to know about the next Gathering, and you deflect. You’re looking at different venues within the base, you say, and refuse to commit to a specific time. He’s insistent, however, as you’ve held them with regularity and the gap since the last one is growing.

“I hear Kylo Ren is scheduled to travel soon,” he tells you. “Some jungle planet in the Western Reaches.”

“I’ll see what I can do.” You promise nothing further. Finally you spur away from Trey and arrive at Kylo Ren’s quarters. The doors open before you can announce yourself, and per previous visits you walk through his ready room to where you are to service him and whichever Knights are present.

Yet, only Kylo waits for you. He is seated, and instinctively you lower to your knees before him.

“Stand to attention,” he orders, and you catch yourself before you touch the floor. “Tell me about your conversation with TR-4409.”

He knows. It comes as no surprise. You are too open to Kylo and unable to close off without enduring mental punishment. He listens as you recite verbatim everything that passed between you and Trey, and await him to admonish you for not dashing Trey’s hopes altogether.

Instead, Kylo crosses his legs at the ankles and threads his fingers. It’s the most relaxed you’ve ever seen him.

“Interesting how your fellow troopers continue to encourage rule-breaking when Captain Phasma had made the restrictions for fraternization clear,” he says. “What is it about these Gatherings that attract people like a drug?”

He tilts his head, requesting an answer.

“Commander,” you say, “it isn’t about breaking the rules for the sake of defying authority. The need for physical intimacy is more than a craving, it’s a necessity. It’s a way to express emotions that are otherwise repressed and forced to fester and --”

“You’re rather eloquent for a Stormtrooper,” he breaks in.

You offer no reason. Kylo either knows or will soon learn of your desire to better yourself at every opportunity. What breaks you get are spent reading, learning. The most mundane of the holo-archives hold great interest to you.

He stands and paces a circle around you, slowly. “Tell me,” he addresses you, “if you hadn’t been conscripted to the First Order, where do you think you’d be now?”

“Dead, I imagine.”

“You’re quite resourceful. I doubt that. Given your proclivities, I’d say in another life you’d be operating a brothel in some oasis resort on the Outer Rim.” He pauses behind you. “Wouldn’t you agree?”

“Perhaps a brothel in an urban area.”

He waits.

“Sexual pleasure isn’t strictly for the elite. Were I to sell my body for a living, I’d want to be available to all walks of life.”

“How magnanimous of you.” Kylo finishes the circle and comes to face you again. “An escort at Canto Bight does rather well, provided they are good at what they do.”

You wonder how he knows that.

“Your record, however, leaves room for improvement.”

A stone settles in your stomach. You puzzle over the change of topic, and what will come next.

“I’ve seen no change in how the Knights of Ren perform in battle, since you’ve been servicing them. They are no better, no worse. I can only conclude the improvement in the Stormtroopers’ work performance during the peak period of your Gatherings is coincidental.”

You want to know if what Kylo Ren perceives as ineffective applies to him as well. Has he felt nothing in your time together? He doesn’t volunteer the information but the next words he delivers shock you.

“Captain Phasma, however, isn’t convinced. As much as she despises the thought of breaking protocol, she has proposed we monitor a Gathering consisting of an all-new group to determine if the...activity indeed promotes a rise in work morale.”

"Yes, Commander." You find this interesting. A successful Gathering, one that produces good workers, could bring changes in how Stormtroopers are permitted to recreate. You imagine, too, Captain Phasma would take full credit.

You then listen, numb, as Kylo Ren gives you instructions. A venue and time is set for your Gathering. You are to be given a list of Stormtroopers to approach. As hostess, you will also participate so as not to arouse suspicion. On hearing this, you feel your heart swell but quickly suppress it. You understand if Trey and any regular attendees learn of this you’ll have to come up with an excuse as to why they are excluded.

You want to ask how the Gathering will be monitored, but Kylo's voice cuts him off.

“You are dismissed." You haven’t serviced him, and you don’t ask why. You use the time walking back to your quarters to think about what transpired, and if this Gathering will be your last.

If it fails, will it be the last thing you do?


	8. The Novice

You resume your post-duty routine over the next several days. The Knights of Ren no longer wait in Kylo Ren's ready room to be serviced, leaving you to focus your attentions on your commander. In some instances he appears more involved than usual, and you have learned to interpret his body language.

When he spans his gloved fingers around the back of your head and presses hard, he wants you to suck hard and move him to climax as soon as possible, presumably because he has other places to go.

When he threads his fingers loosely through your hair, he's in no hurry. You take advantage of these moments to change techniques. You might give more attention to licking his scrotum or simply holding still and letting him control the pace.

When he arches his back, tilting the face of his helmet to the ceiling, he's about to come. You have yet to swallow.

At the appointed hour of the authorized Gathering, you arrive at the abandoned infirmary Kylo Ren has selected. It is situated on a lower level of the base. On your own, you’ve learned that this facility is to be upgraded so as to better serve injured troopers and other personnel. It speaks to you of dwindling numbers among your kind, and the possibility that new conscriptions are becoming more difficult to achieve. Perhaps the First Order is learning to value your kind enough to not let so many of you die.

Perhaps this monitored Gathering is part of the plan.

You remove your helmet and armor, leaving on your black under shirt and breeches, and wait.

The participants you were told to invite are confirmed and aware of the protocol. Nobody is aware they are to be monitored, and you have to let that fact fade to the back of your mind. Their arrivals stagger over a brief time; some were made aware of Gatherings even though they haven’t been stationed here long, and all are excited. You realize the power of communication among the Stormtroopers -- regardless of their level of loyalty to the First Order, they all have needs.

You initially believed you would have to spark this happening, if only with a touch to the first person to catch your fancy. Your guests require no assistance, however. A couple begins to kiss, then another, and soon they are splitting off into couples and triads along the raised platform beds.

One of a pair of two men reaches out and brushes your hip with his fingers. They are both handsome, with soft features and hungry eyes. You wonder how long ago they came to the First Order; they look so young that the ravages of duty haven't appeared to harden them.

Since your own conscription to Kylo Ren’s service, you can’t recall the last time you experienced two pairs of hands on your bare skin, two mouths kissing you on opposite ends of your body. You think you'd like to take these two in your mouth and pussy simultaneously, as this could be your last chance to experience it. Kylo did instruct you to participate, after all.

But as you take the first step toward them, a blip signals new arrivals. Three troopers in full armor emerge and you guide them toward free space where they can undress.

“How does this work?” One of them asks. The voice sounds tinny under his helmet. It’s the first time you’re asked the question, and you’re caught a bit off guard. This trooper is still fully armored while the others who came in with him are halfway stripped.

“It’s quite simple. You take a partner and…” You gesture to present company, all in various stages of embrace, oral and genital stimulation. It sounds clinical in your head, but no other phrases come to mind. “You enjoy each other, within consent.”

“Would you consent to being with me?”

The trooper’s companions are down to their skin and eyeing each other with obvious want. You are the last one standing, and though the temptation to regain the interest of your possible _menage a trois_ partners is strong, you wonder about the person before you. New to the Gathering, yes, but is there more to uncover?

You take the trooper’s glove and start for the back of the room. “I’ve had sexual partners,” you’re told. “Never in a setting like this.”

“It’s fine. Some who come to Gatherings find the atmosphere helps with mood, and desire.” You sit on a vacant platform bed, your fingers still curled around the white, flexible glove. “Of course, it will help to remove what you have on.”

“Will you remove your undergarments first?” The trooper looks out at the landscape of bodies. Hands and mouths in action, driving voices to cry out emotions kept hidden.

Whoever’s under that helmet is nervous. You think the earlier statement about previous lovers is untrue, but there’s no way to know. Every Stormtrooper’s helmet looks the same, a vacant expression and mouth vents that resemble gritted teeth. You search this one for a hint of sincerity, and in your mind you almost see it.

“Of course.” You pull the stretchy black material over your head and bare your breasts to your partner. You then stand and push the waistband of the under-breeches over your hips and down your legs, and discard them in the same pile. Leaning against the wall, you stretch your legs out until they’re nearly in your partner’s lap, widening your thighs enough to offer a view of your pussy.

“You may touch me if you like,” you offer. “It will be better if you remove your gloves.” You decide this tactic may bring comfort. You know it’s not uncommon for the occasional Gathering participant to keep a helmet on during sex. Some treasure their anonymity as much as their need to express their sexuality. Others embrace it as a kink, an act of defiance against every order that has forced people to wear them.

Gloves are removed to reveal large hands. Long fingers, callused and dry. It’s the way for many lower level workers in the First Order who have little time or resources for self-care. Your partner slides closer to you, and you tuck your legs to give them room. You suck in a bit of air at the first touch. Your partner’s fingertips feel rough massaging the lower swell of your breast, and quite experienced when they walk their fingers to your nipple and pinch.

“You are very soft.”

“I’m also resilient, like you,” you say. “However soft or rough you want to be tonight, I’m ready for it.”

Your partner’s hand drops, then rises with the other to remove the helmet. You see the line of a firm jaw, then thick locks of dark hair spill down. Your partner’s profile is powerful and could be called noble, oddly handsome and fascinating. You can’t look away, especially when he holds your gaze with his own.

As though daring you to break contact.

As though daring you to reveal to everyone here his true identity.

Because you just know.


	9. The Infiltration

This is Kylo Ren. In Stormtrooper armor. Hiding in plain sight at a Gathering.

You look away for a moment. All around you, the passion and copulation continues. Not one face has turned in your direction. Not one person here cares about the person you selected, or rather who has selected you.

Well, there is one. The woman who entered with Kylo, the woman straddling her supine partner and riding his cock with urgency, steals glances in your direction. She bares her teeth and grunts; it’s either a sign of her commitment to the sex or she’s sending you a warning of some sort.

She’s lithe and pale and her short blonde hair catches the light overhead; the effect gives her an ethereal look when she tilts her head back. One name surfaces to your lips but you don’t dare say it out loud.

You feel warm fingers touch your chin. Kylo is reclaiming your attention.

“Remove my armor,” he commands, his voice low.

You both have to stand to obey this order. One by one, everything comes off: chest and back plates, abdominal plate, bicep and arm guards, shoulder bells, the legs and protective cup and the boots. When the form-fitting undergarments remain you pause for a second to admire how well Kylo fills the material. His chest is broad and his legs lean and hard, but it’s not something you’ve noticed in your time with him. You’ve only noticed one thing.

Now you can’t stop looking at his body, especially not when Kylo Ren removes what is left. It hits you that the commander of this base, a man who’d as soon eliminate every person here than associate with them, is standing before you naked.

And getting away with it.

“Lie back,” he tells you.

On the platform, the back of your head touches the hard surface. You focus on the ceiling and you feel how Kylo Ren is touching you. He grips you above the knees and spreads your legs so that your feet barely skim the surface of the floor. You’re open to him, and still directing your vision straight ahead as his face comes into view.

Kylo Ren hovers over you. You keep your breathing slow and deep. You think of your upper body rising and resting, filling with air and exhaling. Kylo presses the heel of his left hand next to your head and bends lower so his lips barely brush the outer shell of your ear.

“We’ve decided to experiment further,” he says to you. His use of _we_ confirms the identity of the woman next to you. Her partner, however, is not familiar. “Based upon your recent observations on intimacy.”

“My observations?” It’s all you can say. If you refer to him as Commander, somebody might hear.

“That physical intimacy is a necessity, much like breathing.” He lowers the rest of his body so that his bare chest touches yours. He doesn’t crush you, however. The moment of contact stirs your senses; it feels as though your skin has awakened from a long sleep.

Your bodies don’t align; Kylo is much taller. “Play along,” he says, his voice teasing now. “We do not wish to _arouse_ suspicion.”

You are momentarily frozen. With any other partner you’d have long ago abandoned your inhibitions and fucked without another thought. That it’s Kylo Ren on top of you, with the lead Stormtrooper next to you, has left you frigid. When you force yourself to meet his dark eyes, you understand that he’s waiting for you to make the first move.

Spark the flame.

To do that, you have to let go of fear. If Kylo Ren should kill you here and now, Gatherings are no longer your concern.

You touch the side of his face, raise your hand and kiss him square on the mouth. His lips are warm and pliant. Soft. You hadn’t expected soft. His tongue pushes forward and you respond, opening wider.

He relaxes fully on top of you and you test your bravery and his willingness. You move your hands to his shoulders and down his biceps, up again to slide down his chest and around and up his broad back. You can’t not touch him -- everywhere is warm, soft skin over hard muscles. If this is the last sensation you experience, you are content.

The kiss breaks and you both take in air. Kylo Ren’s expression has mellowed, as though intoxicated. He lowers his face to your right breast and sucks in the nipple, worrying it between his teeth before freeing it. He gives the left one the same treatment and leaves you to whimper your disappointment...until you notice he’s sliding lower.

The whole time, he’s watching you. When he lays a kiss below your navel, when he slips his hands under your thighs to lift your legs over his shoulders, when he puts his tongue into your cunt. You lose control for a moment; your back arches and you grasp the sides of the platform for balance. You look down at one of the most dangerous men in the galaxy -- a man with the power to destroy entire planets.

His face is between your thighs; he is eating your pussy. How did you get here, is all you can think.

Until you come, hard, while he is still latched onto you. From now on you’re treating every orgasm as your last, and you refuse to waste this one. Your cries rise above the din of other sounds of pleasure. You no longer care if heads turn. Let the crowd form. Let that bitch who bosses you around see what you have and she does not.

You reach down and grab for Kylo’s hair, pulling it. He clamps his mouth down on you, licking and sucking harder. You notice he’s removed one hand, but you see his body rise and he’s now stroking himself. He’s getting ready.

“Yes! Now.” It’s a spontaneous cry. Your first command of Kylo Ren. It works. He’s back on top of you, using his hips to keep your thighs apart. His face smells like you. You want to kiss away what remains on his lips and chin.

When he guides his cock into your wet heat you bring your hands to his backside, grasping and pulling him to you. He’s hard and hot and nothing like you’ve ever felt inside you.

“Yes,” he whispers, his voice hoarse. He’s pumping fast and rough. You swear the room is shaking from the force of it. “Yes. I get it now.”

He fucks you hard, sweating and trembling so that it’s a challenge for you to hold on. When he comes the heat spreads through your insides and the sound jars the lights so they blink. Voices gasp at the sudden change but all you see is a bright flash of white behind your eyes just before you black out.

Then silence.


	10. The Decision

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a quick note to thank everybody for their kudos and feedback. The entire story is plotted out; hopefully you will like its direction.

You wake up in a different infirmary, surrounded by fellow troopers recovering from various injuries. The practitioner standing over you is reading your chart and clicking his tongue. “This is the second time you’ve come in for care in such a short span,” he tells you. “You should be more careful.”

“Yes.” You’re parched. You barely get the word out.

He closes the holographic chart. “Well, you’re fine now. Nothing a full cycle of sleep couldn’t fix. There’s no reason why you cannot resume your duties immediately.” With that he’s off to see to the next patient. Bedside manner simply doesn’t exist here.

A full cycle. You were out that long?

You dress and report to your station, grateful for the mind-numbing, hours-long shift. You use the time to mentally recover from the Gathering. Your body remains sore, especially where Kylo Ren fucked you. That you were able to walk out of the infirmary on your own represents a victory. The memory stays with you -- every time an officer makes eye contact on passing you see Kylo Ren’s face. You don’t know why you expected him to look different, or even how to define different.

A sharp voice calls out your operating number. Captain Phasma approaches, back in her shining armor. You picture the sneer under her helmet.

“It appears I’m about to do something completely out of character, and that is to give a lesser person credit,” she says. “The troopers from our little experiment have shown marked improvement in their work performance, even after a short time.”

“Yes, Captain.”

She leans in. “I bet you’re dying to know who I was with.”

You are, but damned if you’ll admit it.

“He was a Knight of Ren, one you’ve serviced in the past. We got on rather well, unlike with you as I’m led to understand.”

“Yes, Captain,” you say. You may as well let her have this one.

“In fact, I’ll be seeing him later.” Phasma steps away and turns to leave. “Shame you won’t have the same opportunity. Kylo Ren is off base, indefinitely.”

It’s not a lie designed to ride you, you later learn. At your routine appearance at Kylo Ren’s quarters you are turned away by a guard. You find out he has indeed gone to the Western Reaches to personally retrieve important intel, and his time of return is unknown.

No instructions are left for you, so you resume your routine as it was before these meetings began. You can’t help feel disappointed that no consideration for you was taken. But what are you, really, in the grand scheme of things when the First Order is fighting a resistance? Kylo Ren has work, and so do you.

And you perform it, and time stretches on. Occasionally you come into contact with a trooper from the last Gathering who thanks you for the invite. Fewer are asking about the next one because it seems everyone is on high alert. Talk of the growing Resistance sweeps through the base, and all personnel have been called to duty to ensure the base is one hundred percent functional.

Somewhere in the urgency, General Hux had found time to call an assembly, and you stand in a giant grid of Stormtroopers while he delivers a loud, angry speech. You half-listen; your thoughts are in the Western Reaches.

***

When Kylo Ren returns, he does not summon you immediately. You cycle through several shifts, and as you wonder if your services are no longer required he summons you.

His quarters look empty. You remove your helmet and begin to kneel in your place, assuming he will appear. Instead you hear his voice.

“Turn around.”

Kylo stands in the doorway, out of his armor. A dark towel is cinched around his waist. His hair is wet and matted from a recent bath. Water beads on his chest and neck.

He raises a hand as though to point, but bends his forefinger. Your armor falls from your body and clatters to the floor.

He makes a fist, reaching out for your undergarments. The fabric rips away, exposing your breasts and mound. You barely react when Kylo storms forward and pins you against the wall.

“Did you miss me?” His voice is deep and urgent in your ear. He kisses you hard before you can answer, and it takes time for you to adjust to the aggressive and frenetic pace of Kylo’s attention.

You have missed him. Your body answers when your mouth is occupied with his. You are wet and trembling and ready for him. You lift your legs around his waist and reach up to grasp his hair. You fingers slide fast through the wet strands; you fail to find an anchor there, so you claw at his back. You know you need not worry about falling because Kylo has hold of you. He’s guided his cock into you and is fucking you against the wall.

It’s a steady rhythm harmonizing with every hard, heavy grunt pushed from his lungs. Fucking you at this angle, he is hitting sensitive areas. Your orgasm is imminent.

“When I tell you,” he says, the words a near growl. You watch his face contort and his eyes close. He is almost there himself, and when he comes the command tears through your skull.

It isn’t until after your breathing slows, after Kylo’s pounding heart softens into a quieter, slower beat, that you realize he spoke to you with his mind.

Still panting, he lowers you to the ground and orders you to dress. He tells you to find a fresh set of undergarments on a nearby table and to wait for him, then snatches his towel as he leaves the room.

You are standing to attention when he returns, sans helmet. “Remove your helmet,” he addresses you. He is back to business. “I have news for you.”

Kylo’s expression had turned muddy. Neither angry nor authoritative...a bit sad, but it’s not something you would admit aloud. Your mind dares to suggest you are seeing vulnerability.

Has anyone else seen this face?

“You are to be transferred off base.”

It’s the last thing you want to hear. It’s a confusing thing to hear, given Kylo Ren’s thorough fucking.

“You are to be given a new assignment, one that will require use of your...special skills,” he continues. “You will no longer be required to wear armor. You will retain a weapon for your protection, and,” he studies you for a reaction, “you will share your body as necessary.”

“May I speak?”

He allows it. “Have I displeased anybody on Starkiller Base?” That you’ve kept your voice this steady amazes you. You want to scream, or cry. You’ve done everything Kylo Ren has commanded of you. You’ve sucked off his knights, you’ve suffered Captain Phasma’s taunts, you’ve risked a near riot at a Gathering that Kylo himself infiltrated.

You’ve done your duty, and yet it’s not enough. The First Order never has enough.

“You have not,” he says. “You have, in fact, far exceeded your expectations that it would be wasteful to keep you here. A person of your knowledge and skill would better serve the First Order in an undercover capacity.”

“Undercover, Commander?”

“A spy.” Kylo moves to a panel and calls up a holoscreen that fills with images of mugshots. “The Resistance shows no signs of slowing; they are quietly gaining ships and weaponry through the black market, the same channels the First Order uses.”

You understand. Black market arms dealers have no loyalty for any particular side in a war. They only want profit.

“Many of them come through Canto Bight to negotiate.” He shut off the screen. “You are to be installed there to report everything you see and hear to the First Order.”

“Yes, Commander.” You don’t have to ask about the nature of your cover. You are going to whore yourself for the glory of the First Order. “I will not disappoint you.”

“This was not my idea,” he snaps, and takes a step back. “A ship is being prepared. You are to leave with me and a regiment immediately.”

“Yes, Commander.”

He leaves the room again; you stay. He hasn’t dismissed you. You remain at attention as the truth of this new situation leaves you cold. You never cared much for this base -- you were conscripted against your will -- yet you made the best of your existence here.

Now, you’re leaving, and it upsets you. You did have friends here. Comrades. You will never see them again. You don’t know how far Canto Bight is from this base, and you don’t know if you will see Kylo Ren again once you leave.

You wonder, if Kylo Ren was truthful earlier, who put you up for this assignment? Captain Phasma never liked you, but she would as soon shoot you rather than go through this trouble. Perhaps another officer, perhaps the Supreme Leader.

Kylo returns, this time with helmet and cape, and orders you to follow. You place your helmet back on and comply, grateful for the cover. It hides the tears stinging your eyes.


	11. The Transfer

You’ve never seen any place like this. Canto Bight is all light and color and gaiety. Beautiful people in sparkling gowns and suits walk together, arms linked and faces close enough to kiss, among tables hosting games of chance. Nothing at Starkiller Base has prepared you for this.

You stand at the edge of a wide stairway leading into the heart of the casino, in dowdier civilian dress, next to an attendant assigned to keep watch on you. Kylo Ren has ordered you to stay put while he speaks to the brothel manager. His presence caused an initial stir, but once the crowd in general saw that the commander hadn’t arrived with the armed regiment currently waiting outside the property, they resumed their indulgences.

“You look rather plain for a whore,” the attendant tells you. You know he’d rather be anywhere else now. “I don’t know how Madame expects to make any profit off of you.”

“Sometimes the plainest of wrappers hide the sweetest surprises,” you say, and give him an arched look. “I’ve had no complaints.”

A third person materializes and the conversation ends. The attendant is dismissed and you follow this person -- a woman in a low-cut red dress and shoes that look absolutely painful -- down a dim hallway of open doorways. Each one is covered with some type of curtain, either beaded or gauzy fabric. Soft moans emit from nearly every room. You pass and your gaze catches glimpses of couples, triads in various positions. Fucking, sucking, spanking...whatever is requested. The lack of privacy suggests some customers may pay for the opportunity to simply watch.

These are your new comrades. You hope you will get along with them.

Your room is the last on the left. Kylo Ren, helmeted, stands with Madame, the proprietor. She is a tall, thin woman whose expression implies she is without humor. Her initial appraisal of you causes her smile to downturn and her nose to flare.

“Rather plain, isn’t she?”

You hate that word now.

“Nonetheless, potential exists in every person.” Madame glares at Kylo Ren. “You vouch for her?”

“I’ve had her myself. She will serve your clientele very well.”

“Very well,” Madame echoed, and turned to the other woman. “Get her into the salon immediately. She needs a makeover top to bottom.”

You’re being tugged out of the room when Kylo commands a moment alone first. Madame and her minion say they will wait in the lobby.

The helmet comes off. You are glad to see his face again. In the ambient lighting of your new quarters, he looks younger, more handsome than ever. You long to reach up to touch his face but fear repercussion. Kylo Ren in a public setting must maintain an air of intimidation. This is no time for sentimentality.

There never was.

“This is not goodbye,” he tells you. “Though you will communicate with the First Order holographically, I will return on occasion for...one-on-one briefings.”

“Yes, Commander.”

“Also,” he produces something from inside his cape, “this is for you.”

He gives you a spherical crystal with the emblem of the First Order etched inside. It’s heavy in your hands but smooth. It’s the most beautiful thing you’ve owned, which says much since you have so little.

“It serves a dual purpose.” Kylo shows you a tiny divot on the base of the object. “If you depress this, it will transmit an alarm to the nearest regiment. Use it only if you believe your cover is revealed and security here is breached.”

“Yes, Commander.” Why go through the trouble of protecting one person?

Kylo stares down at you. “Let it also remind you of why you are here, who you work for.”

His gloved hand touches your face. You wish he’d take it off, along with the rest of his armor, and offer you a more memorable farewell. With so many ears and eyes around, however, you know to accept what you’re given.

“I will not disappoint you,” you say.

“I know.”

Helmet now back in place, Kylo Ren the warrior storms away. You sit on your new bed cradling the crystal weight, remembering his words.

_This is not goodbye._

You smile.


	12. The Visit

You take to your new assignment quickly. You are not necessarily the most popular escort at Canto Bight, but over time you have cultivated a modest following. You entertain a variety of clients -- some loyal either to the Resistance or First Order, some neutral, and some who enjoy talking all through the act...with your encouragement.

Everything you see and hear goes straight into your communications with Starkiller Base. However, you never speak directly with Kylo Ren. Canto Bight is a hotbed of war gossip, and while he has come only one other time to see you, you content yourself with news of him when it comes available.

You hear he spends much of his time chasing a ghost. A Jedi. He captured a woman prisoner, and sparred with Resistance fighters. During his last visit he volunteered none of this information to you. You had the impression the last thing he wanted to do then was talk.

The other escorts are friendly. Some attempt to pull you into their confidence but you remain guarded. Many are curious about Kylo Ren and his sexual prowess. You want to stay coy, but after one night of frank conversation and several Parkellan Slings every one of them comes away with a clearer picture of Kylo Ren’s equipment and skills.

You settle into a routine -- personal maintenance and chores assigned by Madame during the day, clients at night. Despite your installment by the First Order you are paid like any of the others, and you are confused by it. You’ve never had an income to spend at your will, so you save it. The war can’t last forever, and you figure you will need something for the future. Whatever that is.

***

You have finished entertaining a repeat client, a codebreaker who enjoys bragging about his exploits while you fellate him. He is enjoying playing both sides down the middle, though he says he expects one or the other will eventually offer him a price too good to refuse. When he comes in your mouth you immediately reach for the spit bucket by your bed.

He laughs and does up his trousers. “Not all that hungry then, were you?”

“I’m collecting for the poor,” you say.

“You have a strange sense of humor.” He addresses you by the name Madame has given you. It wouldn’t do to answer to your operating number here. He then tosses you a single credit before taking his leave. The cheap bastard.

You’ve committed everything he said to memory and look forward to your next report, not so much your next client. It’s not that you’ve ceased to enjoy the sex; many of your clients are passionate and kind. You feel an urgency to complete the other side of your work. It’s the only thing that connects you to Kylo Ren.

Your next client is late. You check the hallway, thinking he may have paused to watch another escort, but the space is filled with bodies and excited noise. One escort with whom you are close, named La La, rushes over to you.

“You won’t believe this. They’ve done it. The Resistance has done it.”

Your heart thuds. “Done what?”

“Starkiller Base is destroyed.”

Destroyed? How is that possible? The base was enormous, a powerful force. The base was designed _to_ destroy. La La surely must have heard wrong.

You think of everyone you knew there. LD-3404, CZ-1943, Trey...are they dead? Did they make it out in time? It hurts to think you can only remember so many of them by operating numbers. They were people; they deserved names.

A chill squeezes your heart and you struggle to breathe. You manage to cry out for La La and she comes running.

“Kylo Ren...is he dead?”

La La shakes her head. It wasn't long after the base’s destruction that he recorded a message broadcast to every system. “He has sworn to destroy the Resistance. Boy, was he mad.” She laughs. Laughs! You let her run off to go celebrate, or whatever she plans with this news.

You wish for a door, a solid door, to seal yourself in this room. You are too numb to process what is happening. You must mourn what friendships you lost for good, yet a faint light shines within you and you hold onto it.

Kylo Ren is alive.

Will you see him again?

***

It is a long time before you receive an answer.

Business continues as usual. Just because a major force in the galaxy has suffered a “setback” does not equate to a holiday, Madame reminds her employees. You entertain clients from all over, race and gender and species are unimportant. Sex is the universal language and everybody speaks it.

In time, communications with the First Order reopen; they have not forgotten you. You resume your reports with a different officer. You become more dedicated to your espionage, as it’s the only method of retaliation you have against the Resistance. They killed people you considered friends, they almost killed Kylo Ren.

You are lying in bed, resting a moment in between clients, thinking of him when a presence fills the room. You sit up to discover him in the doorway. The first thing he does is lift his cape from his shoulders. When it looks as though he is tossing it back, the material stays in place. He’s used his gifts to keep it aloft, to block the door from curious eyes.

The helmet comes off next. He looks tired and occupied, the crippling blow to the First Order heavy on his mind. He is no less handsome to you. You stand to attention.

“Commander, I am pleased to know you have survived.” It’s a risky thing to say as you don’t know how he will react.

“Show me,” he says.

You undress many of your clients. The speed with which you disrobe Kylo has come with much practice. When he is naked, you kneel before him and stroke his cock to a full erection before taking him. His fingers comb your hair and you expect his grip to guide your pace, but you realize he is actually moving your hair out of the way.

You look up, still sucking him. He is looking down at you...and you swear you see the hint of a smile. You don’t stop, not until he steps away and sits on the bed, pulling you to straddle his lap.

Fully seated on his cock, you grind up and down on him while he grasps your backside with one large hand. The other cradles you loosely around your back. Your arms are draped around his neck, and your nipples rub his chest with every stroke.

He puts his lips close to your ear. “Listen carefully,” he says.

You pause but he nudges you to keep going.

“Continue as you were. This is a crucial time for the First Order. Even the slightest breach could result in another catastrophic event,” he tells you. “Do not do or say anything that would give away your position.”

You begin to worry. When your fellow escorts aren’t working, they are talking.

“For all anyone knows here, you are merely a favorite of mine,” he says. “They don’t need to know anything more.”

“Yes, Commander.”

He holds you tight and you move to switch positions while he is still inside you. On your back, you open your legs wider to allow Kylo to fuck you. As much as you enjoy watching his face in this position, this time you pivot your hips to better see his cock pumping in and out of you. You focus on that, imprint it on your memory.

“Yes,” he whispers. You feel his body tense; he’s about to come. “I need this. I don’t care what you say.”

“Commander?” You look up. He is neither looking at you, or talking to you, yet he hasn’t stopped.

“Get out of my head.”

You want to respond, but given the way he thrashes as he finishes clues you in that something else is happening. It’s related to his powers; something, or somebody, has invaded his mind. You’re scared, but Kylo soon climaxes and collapses on you.

You hold him as his breathing slows. It’s all you can do for the moment. Your hands run slick with the sweat on his back. The floating cape that blocked your room from the world now lies in a heap on the floor.

“Commander?”

Kylo lifts his head, kisses you, and says, “Sleep now.” You fight it, but even with words he is too powerful for you.

When you awake, he is gone.


	13. The Offer

During intense battles between the First Order and the Resistance, business suffers. Not for the casino, however. Gambling and drinking as entertainment are recession-proof. Sex, however, requires a greater commitment to desire. It’s a challenge to stay aroused when business negotiations become tense.

When there’s a lull, Madame encourages all escorts to mill about the crowd, to remind people that you are available for pleasure. You welcome the opportunity not only for the change in scenery, but to eavesdrop and collect information of use to the First Order.

This also keeps your mind off of Kylo Ren. You’ve received no word from him since your last meeting, and the gossip worries you. There’s talk of another woman, an obsession. You know you shouldn’t be jealous. Kylo Ren laid a claim on you, not the other way around.

In the midst of the activity around the casino, you hear something you never again expected from a voice other than Kylo Ren’s. Somebody is calling out your old operating number.

You stop in your tracks. This is the moment -- the breach that requires you to summon help. You don’t answer the call, but instead push through the crowd back to your room. Back to the crystal to activate the transmitter. Perhaps Kylo Ren will answer it himself.

Heavy footfalls sound behind you, followed by heavy breathing. You feel a hand come down hard on your shoulder and you’re whirled around to come face-to-face with a dark-skinned man from another time and place.

You recognize him immediately. “FN-2187.”

He smiled broadly at you. “Call me Finn now.”

You tell him your new name and beg him to use it. You look around. Nobody has paid you any mind.

Finn has with him a woman -- pretty, dark-haired, shy. Intelligent, too, as you gather by the way she silently studies you as you and...Finn reconnect.

“I don’t believe this,” Finn is saying as you look each other over. You are both very different now, out of armor and using new names, far from the drudgery of Starkiller Base. “How did you manage to get away?”

“It’s a long story,” you say.

“We don’t have time for a long story,” the companion cuts in.

“Rose, please. She might be able to help.” He turns back to you. “Can we talk in private?”

You knew him as FN-2187, once a loyal Stormtrooper, now a traitor to the First Order. Following his defection, Captain Phasma grilled every trooper with even a tenuous connection to him, yourself included, to root out further treasonous behavior. Your first instinct is to tell Finn you cannot talk, but it occurs to you that you may obtain information from him.

You invite them back to your room. The woman, Rose, declines your offer of a beverage, and a chair. She is content to pace and inspect your quarters and you decide to focus on Finn, who appears more willing to socialize.

“I have to say,” he tests out your new name, “of all the people I wanted to make it safely off that base, I’m glad it’s you.” He leans in as though not wanting Rose to hear. “Those Gatherings...I think they saved my life at one point. Really the only thing I miss about being a Stormtrooper.”

“Same here, I suppose. Tell me, what happened to you after you left?”

"Finn," Rose warns.

Finn looks around your space. “It appears you’re in a similar line of work.”

“I like it.”

“Similar, as in still working for the First Order?” Rose says, her voice acidic. She is holding the crystal Kylo Ren gave you. “Or do you just collect souvenirs of evil empires?”

“That was a gift from a First Order officer, a client,” you say, a bit stronger than intended. “Please return it to its place.”

Rose ignores you. The crystal comes down hard on its shelf. “Finn, she’s Kylo Ren’s whore. She’s probably an informant, too. I overheard people talking. I’ve been trying to tell you.”

Finn’s smile fades. He sees something in your reaction. “It’s true.”

“He saved my life,” you say. “I owe it to him.”

"This room could be bugged," Rose says.

"It's not bugged. I live here."

“You owe him nothing. You owe the First Order nothing.” Finn uses your new name, you suspect to bring you to see reason. “There’s a better way. I’m with the Resistance now.”

“I know.”

“Come with us. Our group is small but we are strong, and we need all the help we can get.”

You shake your head. “I don’t see how a simple whore can help you defeat the First Order.” Do you even want to help? Any move against the First Order is one against Kylo Ren, and as much as you try to keep him out of your thoughts, he remains.

"You were a Stormtrooper. You're trained in combat."

"We were in the same regiment for a time. You know how good I was." You force out a laugh.

“A simple Stormtrooper helped destroy that base,” Finn says, tapping his chest. “There are no limits.”

Your hands turn clammy. “All those people, dead. They went to Gatherings, too. The same ones you attended. Not everybody has the luxury or opportunity to simply walk away.”

Finn looks down. You imagine he hasn’t seen it that way before. But he recovers and says, “My walking away wasn’t simple.”

Rose comes forward. “Can we get back on track here? We have to find the Master Codebreaker. If you know him, please point him out to us,” she said. “If you also say we were never here, that would help.”

You look from Rose to Finn, both pleading silently with their expressions. You must admit, it’s good to once again see a friendly face, and Finn does trigger memories of happier times. However, he is a reminder of who you are and why Kylo Ren has installed you here.

You tell them at which table the Codebreaker normally plays and wish them luck. You help, without really helping. Rose gives you a look that reveals this truth. You refuse to leave because you know, despite Finn’s insistence to the contrary, there is no place for you in the Resistance. You are tired of fighting, and the time spent here is enough of a risk to your life.

Also, you won’t chance stepping away for a second in the event Kylo Ren returns.

“Finn,” Rose says, “we have to leave.”

Finn acknowledges her, and kisses your forehead. “You can always change your mind,” he tells you before leaves.

You know, and you won’t.


	14. The Resistance

You wait. You fuck. You spy. You report. You wait some more.

You hear nothing from Kylo Ren. Even the gossip vines on which you relied for news have dried. Nobody seems to know of his whereabouts. The latest intel received claims he is now Supreme Leader, and you imagine more duties have kept him from this part of the galaxy.

You sense divisions within the First Order. Every communication you make is with a different officer, each one more odious than the last. This most recent one has a sneering expression that looks sinister in holograph form.

“I question the wisdom behind this assignment of yours,” you’re told. “Perhaps you have outlived your usefulness on Canto Bight, and should return to your regiment.”

You are angry and tired and thinking only of one person. “You should take it up with the Supreme Leader then,” you tell him, and cut out of the conversation on his surprised expression.

You wait. You fuck. You grow bored. Madame notices, and she is none too happy. After the second cancelled appointment on your part, she threatens to terminate your work contract. “Kylo Ren can call himself whatever he wants. If you don’t make money, you don’t stay.”

You promise to adjust your attitude. You take a day to pamper yourself -- new hairstyle, a bath. La La goes shopping with you and you spend too many credits on a nice gown. What would Trey and your fellow troopers have said to see you like this, acting this way.

Some call this normal. You debate that, but you embrace the small changes thinking they may avalanche to bigger ones. An end to the war. Kylo’s return.

For you...at this point you’d settle for one more visit. A full cycle, to sleep in his arms and have him there when he wakes.

As you brush your hair and think these thoughts, you ask yourself how long you’ve had them. You complied with Kylo Ren in the beginning to survive. Now you feel as though you can’t survive without him.

It scares you.

***

News of the First Order’s -- the Final Order’s -- defeat spreads quickly through Canto Bight. Older patrons compare it to the victory over the previous Empire. People watch holo-footage of Star Destroyers exploding and colliding, cheering them on like fireworks.

One table, where people once gambled, now shows archived film of Starkiller Base’s destruction. You can’t watch it. When you find a person dressed in military uniform, you ask about Kylo Ren. Is he dead?

Nobody knows, or seems to care. What can he do to them now?

The fifth person you try grabs you for an impromptu dance, which you discourage until he spills. “He surrendered,” you’re told. “He’s in Resistance custody, and if they’re smart they’ll prosecute him to the fullest extent.”

You tear away from his grasp and let the jubilation fade into a dull roar behind you. You settle in your room and lie down, wishing to be somewhere else.

***

It isn’t long before the casino and brothel are overrun with Resistance fighters come to celebrate. Your attempt at feigning a cold fails. Madame wants all escorts working. “Just because I conceded to Kylo Ren’s request to hire you doesn’t mean I’m faithful to the First Order,” she tells you. “I don’t care what stripes they wear. They pay, you lay.”

“Fine,” you say. “For every Resistance fighter I service, I want to charge double my usual rate.”

“That, I can do.” Madame cackles. You doubt you’ll see double the credits, but at least they are paying somehow for this.

You lose track of the people coming in and out. Finn returns, with a friend called Poe. He asks for you, but you advise Madame you are booked and that La La would be more accommodating. It just doesn’t feel right. Though, you can’t help but smile when you overhear Finn talking of Captain Phasma’s demise.

As the crowd trickles to half a dozen waiting clients, you look forward to a long sleep. Madame spoils the mood with the announcement of a new visitor, a woman. You acknowledge and prepare. You’ve accepted the lion’s share of women clients, mainly because the other escorts aren’t as keen.

You quickly wash, brush your hair to tamp down the frizz, and spritz on more perfume. The woman who enters doesn’t have the appearance of the others come to play. She is regal in every respect -- her dress, hair, speech. Behind her stands a hirsute creature, a Wookiee, who guards the doorway. You’ve heard of them, but have never before seen one.

You stand to greet your client and open your robe wider. The woman bids you to sit. “I’ve only paid for your time,” she addresses you, then introduces herself. General Leia Organa of the Resistance. You do your best to show no emotion.

It likely doesn’t matter how well you have performed here. Madame may very well sell you out to the Resistance as a First Order conspirator if the price is right. It’s true much of the troops and all of the ships were wiped out, but you know the Resistance is arresting outliers and deserters.

Your mind instantly goes to the crystal, evidence, the very one General Organa is now holding.

“You are not under arrest, but I do wish to speak with you and hope you will cooperate,” she tells you. “It won’t work anymore. The transmitter is disabled. Nonetheless, we are confiscating such objects.” She pauses, and hands it to you. “But I feel this item has more of a sentimental value to you.”

“It was a gift.”

“From Kylo Ren.” General Organa’s expression turns sad. “He is in custody and will stand trial soon.”

You fight it, but a tear spills from your eye and you nod. “And he will be executed.” What other punishment suits?

“Not necessarily. The Resistance fought to regain peace in the galaxy. If we go around arbitrarily executing people we are just as barbaric as the people we fought.” She comes to sit next to you on your bed. “Ben...Kylo Ren is to receive a fair trial, which means he will have a defense. He will require witnesses, and there aren’t many left who qualify.”

She calls you by name, and your operating number. You look up and see the sincerity in her eyes. There’s something familiar there as well.

“I don’t want him to die,” she says.

You don’t, either, but you wonder if you are talking about the same person. “You think I can help?”

“I do. I personally will see to it that no charges will be brought against you. In exchange for your testimony, we will arrange a settlement for you.”

"What do you mean?"

"Some deprogrammed Stormtroopers who have cooperated will be returned to their families, placed in new homes and positions..."

You are a prostitute. Despite it all, you feel it is the best occupation for you and you express this opinion. "Perhaps, then, your own house," the general suggests, "so you keep all of your profits."

"Why are you helping me?"

"Because you helped my son." She pats your hand. “You may have been more of a help to the Resistance than you realize.”

“How?”

She squeezes your hand now. “Come with me, and you will find out.”


	15. The End & The Beginning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the final chapter. It is longer by comparison, mainly because I just kept writing.
> 
> If you made it here, I thank you for staying with this story and hope you enjoyed it.

You agree to accompany the general to Coruscant. You learn that following the demise of the First and Final Order, key players in the Resistance are working to rebuild the Galactic Senate. Their first order of business will be to convene the tribunal before which Kylo Ren and others will stand.

You learn Kylo -- Ben Solo -- is confined to a detention cell on the planet. “All prisoners of war have been treated well,” the general tells you. As you make the journey to Coruscant on her ship, the Millennium Falcon, you listen to the conversations of your other travel companions. Some imprisoned First Order officers have committed suicide. Others have fallen to Resistance fighters in acts of vengeance. The news that Kylo is under constant watch does little to reassure you.

A woman comes to sit beside you and informs you that the ship will arrive soon. “I wanted to thank you for your help,” she tells you. “You may not realize it now, but you are making a difference.”

“I knew a Stormtrooper who defected. He tried to recruit me on Canto Bight,” you say. “I said a simple whore like me couldn’t defeat the First Order. Everybody around me seems to think the opposite.”

“I don’t like that word.”

“Whore? It’s not an insult. It’s what I am.” You own it. Whatever happens after this moment, that will not change.

“I meant simple,” the woman says. “You are more intelligent than you think, and it is probably what Kylo Ren noticed about you.”

“He caught me hosting an orgy on Starkiller Base. _That_ is what he noticed.”

The woman laughs. “How many did you host before he discovered it? A man using the Force.” Her face then turns serious. “There was a time I was convinced Kylo Ren had no light left in him. Your presence at the tribunal may disprove that.”

You look at her. She may be about your age. “Are you aware of what I’ve done?”

“Very much so. I know you and...he had a connection. I have one with him as well, though it’s not quite like yours.”

“Were you his lover?”

She doesn’t answer.

“It’s okay if you were. I know there were others.” You think back to your last time with Kylo, when he wrestled with the voices in his head. “Were you there?”

“Yes.” She leans closer. “And it’s okay. He was right. He needed it.”

“Rey.”

The woman looks up at the general’s call. The ship has docked and you are to be escorted to Coruscant Hotel, where you will stay until you give your testimony.

***

Though the trial is closed off to all media until the sentencing phase, it hasn’t stopped news from leaking. As housekeepers tidy up your suite you listen to their gossip. Several defendants are bargaining for their lives, agreeing to bear witness against each other for clemency. Kylo Ren is not named specifically, but you wonder how he is faring under his current conditions. The woman from the ship, Rey, has not come to visit, nor has the general. You have nobody to talk to, and the housekeepers keep to themselves.

One morning after breakfast, General Organa arrives with security detail. “Just a precaution,” she tells you, as threats have been made by a few stragglers loyal to the First Order. Empty threats, likely, but why take chances? The general advises you to answer truthfully, cooperate with the court, and you will have fulfilled your duty.

“My duty.” Once upon a time, your duty was to suck off the Knights of Ren. You will testify to that in court.

“Will Kylo Ren be there?” you ask.

The general bristles at the mention of that name. “Ben will be there, and I should tell you that he is no longer the person who commanded you.” The general looks away for a moment, and adds, “He is aware of your participation, and I am certain he is grateful for it.”

At this point, knowing he survived the massive destruction is enough for you.

“I assure you,” the general says, “once this is over you will have your freedom.”

“What do I do with freedom? I’ve never really had it.”

The woman is thrown by that question. Her face hardens a moment in concentration, and she says, “For a time, I was incarcerated by the Empire. I thought I might die, but when I didn’t I knew my plans. I’ve been through this before, and I should know by now that not everybody had the same experience.” She drifts over to a large window and looks out at the city. “I remember the clones from the Empire...I keep forgetting the First Order took children away to indoctrinate them. There is so much healing to be done.”

“Kylo Ren placed me in that brothel because he believed my skill set suited it,” you say. “I should like to return to that work, only not on Canto Bight.”

She turns to look at you.

“There’s no shame in it. People have needs.”

“I wouldn't shame you,” she says. “I will help. In fact, I know somebody more knowledgeable who could help you establish your own house.”

You like the sound of that. You want to thank her, but a security guard interrupts to announce it’s time to leave.

You take a deep breath to steel yourself for what awaits you.

***

You stand before a long table in a cold echo chamber of a room. Seated before you are five unsmiling people who will decide Kylo Ren’s fate. To your right, at a smaller table with the general, sits Kylo. Ben. You find it difficult to concentrate because you can’t help but steal glances in his direction.

The general was not exaggerating. This is not the same man who commanded you to suck his cock, and those of the Knights, and then shot his cum on your face. Gone is the smugness, the fire. In his dark sweater, his gaze cast down, he appears chastened and lost. You do notice, though, he watches you.

The tribunal asks questions. You answer them. Gradually, you reveal your life on Starkiller Base in explicit detail, from your earliest memories post-conscription to your first meeting with General Organa. You talk of the Gatherings, your relationship with fellow troopers who looked forward to them, and stress the undeniable truth that every person involved was an individual who felt emotion.

You talk of Kylo Ren and the changing dynamics of your arrangement with him. You want the tribunal to know your perception of him beyond what the rest of the galaxy saw. You want them to know how grateful you are that he saved your life by taking you off that base.

You aren’t sure how much time you have given to this deposition, but when you are finished you gauge every face in the room for their reactions. It is a mixture of astonishment and restraint.

The man you knew as Kylo Ren has his eyes closed, as though willing his mind to be somewhere else.

“Thank you for your testimony,” an older man in light-colored robes addresses you by your new name. “Your observations of your former colleagues have introduced a unique perspective to these proceedings.” He looks a bit uncomfortable following your frank testimony; it’s almost as if he could use your services. “Are there any questions for this witness?” he asks the others.

“I have one.” A woman with dark, short hair speaks up. She looks directly at you. “Do you believe Ben Solo, formerly known as Kylo Ren, is deserving of clemency despite the record of his crimes?”

“I do.”

They seemed surprised you answered so quickly. You steal a glance at Kylo...Ben. His eyes are wide.

“Are you certain,” the woman continues, “this answer is not borne of some unorthodox attachment? You had sexual relations with this man. That must color your judgement.”

“I’ve had sex with many people,” you say. "Several have been kind to me, but it doesn’t necessarily make them good people, nor would I defend them in court unless I had a good reason.”

The woman leans forward, twining her fingers. “What is your reason for acting as a character witness today?”

“I wanted you to know that at any time during my tenure on Starkiller Base, Kylo Ren could have terminated me. I flagrantly disregarded protocols and put several Stormtroopers at risk with my behavior. He would have been right to do so. He didn’t.”

“And instead he used you as a sexual plaything. Some would suggest your so-called relationship was non-consensual, but that also brings into question whether or not Stormtroopers were able to consent to anything they did, due to their conditioning.” She nods at you. “Thank you. I have no further questions. You are dismissed.”

A guard walks up to escort you away. The exit is opposite where Ben Solo sits, so you will not walk past him as you leave. Your attempt to step in his direction is thwarted when the guard reaches for your arm to guide you. You decide it’s best to comply.

When you reach the door you turn back for one last look at him. He is watching you, quiet and unmoving.

***

Your room has a balcony. After your evening meal you stand with your hands on the railing looking out into the city. It is similar to the area surrounding Canto Bight, awash in blinding lights. Noise fills the air. To your right, a moving billboard broadcasts news in various languages. Footage of Ben Solo standing at judgment fills the screen with a single word flashing in bold letters at the bottom. It’s not in a language you know.

“It says _Exiled_.”

You turn at the voice. A diminutive humanoid, ancient and wearing large goggles, walks toward you. She introduces herself as Maz, and doesn’t explain how she got past the guards at the door. Instead she comes to stand beside you and gazes at the billboard. “To say the sentence came as a surprise is an understatement. The reaction on Ben’s face...he honestly believed he would be executed."

“You were there.”

Maz nods.

The images change to Resistance fighters reveling in their victory. You have seen enough and retreat indoors, then remember your manners and offer Maz a drink. “So that’s it. He is sent off to live out the rest of his life in solitude to contemplate his sins. What happens to the rest of the First Order?”

“Some have been sentenced to death, some life in detention, others to hard labor in various systems,” Maz says. “To be certain, Ben will make reparations, but if you ask me he is quite fortunate.”

“Do you believe he got off lightly?”

The old woman pauses a moment, blinks, and says, “It’s not an easy question to answer. There are, one can argue, mitigating circumstances. Plus, unlike the others, he had a champion.” She points a finger at you.

“What happens to me? I haven’t seen the general or anybody else since I returned here.”

The woman comes to sit next to you. “General Organa believes I may be able to help. I understand you are free and looking for work in the, ah, _hospitality_ industry.”

“I have credits saved. Ideally I want my own house, in an area where such work is legal. Working alone to start, and maybe I’ll hire on if there’s a demand.” You have it figured out. You only require guidance as to where to go, as you haven’t seen much of the galaxy.

“Such a place exists,” Maz says. “Mos Eisley, a spaceport city on a mostly desert planet called Tatooine. Heavy ship traffic, many people coming and going...and sometimes searching for diversions.”

You have heard of Tatooine. You are aware the city is somewhat governed by the slug-like Hutt syndicate. You recall Madame’s occasional dealings with gangsters, payouts to stay in business, and you voice your concerns.

Maz strokes her chin. “You need not worry. General Organa has dealt with a Hutt in her time. Once they know she has you under her protection, they won’t bother you.”

“It sounds promising, but maybe I should broaden my options.”

“You may,” she says coyly. “You may also consider the fact that Tatooine is now the permanent home of a specific prisoner, and that I have accepted responsibility for periodically delivering his supplies. I recently opened an establishment there to replace the one I lost.” She leans close to you. “Running a business takes all your energy and vigilance, and I’ll likely hire somebody to handle deliveries. I’m curious, how do you feel about moonlighting?”

***

You are nervous. You are in the middle of nowhere on a desert planet, miles away from your new home, and driving a landspeeder that belongs to Maz Kanata. Your house, opened only recently, is starting to attract clients but since you charge what clients can afford -- and some have little to spare -- you are grateful for the side work.

To say nothing of this opportunity.

Ben Solo’s place of exile is an outpost that once operated as a moisture farm. You’ve heard through the vines at Mos Eisley that it is ancestral land, of sorts, and part of his reparations will involve making it functional again. Water remains a commodity on this white-hot planet, and what Ben produces will be distributed at no profit to him.

These periodical deliveries, arranged by his mother, are the bare minimum for him to live. Before you left Maz’s, she advised you that you need not give him the bare minimum yourself. In truth, you don’t know what to expect. Ben Solo may simply take the bag and wish you well. You prepare yourself for a shy dismissal if that is his choice.

You pass a checkpoint where armed guards watch the perimeter of the property and show your pass. The homestead is mainly underground with an entry dome, and you park as close as is allowed. You disembark the landspeeder as a figure fills the archway. He is still tall, tanned now from the sun, and dressed for the terrain in an off-white tunic and dark breeches and boots.

“I’m sorry,” is the first thing he says to you. “For everything I’ve done to you.”

“I forgive you.”

He takes the bag and invites you in. “That was rather immediate.”

You don’t see the point in nursing a grudge. The life you knew on Starkiller Base, as a cog in the First Order machine, is over. You find it’s best to start fresh.

“Can you stay a while?” he asks.

“This is my only delivery today.” You tell him about the house when prompted, and ask him questions about moisture farming. When the conversation turns to his living conditions in exile, you learn he is allowed a very short list of visitors though none besides you have come yet.

“I suppose they want me settled first,” he says, putting cans and boxes in their places. His hand pauses on a contraband bottle Maz must have packed. “I’m not supposed to drink spirits. You should give this back.”

“Maz is only trying to help,” you apologize for your boss.

He smiles. It’s a new experience for you and leaves you momentarily speechless.

“She’s done well with it. Let me give you the tour.”

You’re shown every curve and corner of the homestead, ending in the modest nook where Ben sleeps. It’s the exact opposite of Kylo Ren’s quarters -- warm and comfortable where the other rooms were stark and intimidating. You’re about to compliment the decor when you feel his hands on your waist. Ben stands behind you and slowly draws you into a hug.

“Can you stay a while longer?” he asks.

Maz never gave you a hard deadline for returning the landspeeder. You have no appointments.

“Yes.” You reach for the tie securing his breeches but he pauses you with two words.

“Not yet.”

He’s not ready for that, and you accept it. You let him guide you to the bed and you lay on your side, Ben spooning you with his arm holding you tight to him. His breathing is even and slows gradually as you stare out into the room, studying his meager belongings, and wondering about his new life.

Neither of you speak. You lose track of time, and when you are able to turn to look at him you discover he has fallen asleep. You contemplate extracting yourself from his hold, but the tension on his sleeping countenance concerns you. You don’t envy him the dream he must be having.

His hand on your belly presses on you and you slide back into place. You will stay a while longer, and you relax and let your eyelids close. You think maybe you can bring an extra blanket next time, or a similar item of comfort to help him through the nights.

You’re not thinking of the clients you will see after the suns rise. You’re not thinking of whether Maz will need the landspeeder anytime soon. If she does, she knows where to find it.

The End


End file.
